The other night some friends and I went to a Wizards game, otherwise known as the Land of $7 Beers. Luckily, Bobby and I caught on quick that the best way to get our money's worth was to keep sippin' our beers through a straw. Sure we looked idiotic, but whatever works...
**Unfortunately the guys in front of us had to endure our babble.
'Those Wizard dancers are pretty good.'
'Yeah, and they're paler than I expected. And look! They don't have six packs! They're normal. Maybe we're in good enough shape to join 'em.' **
'Yeah maybe that's what we've been doing wrong all along. I wonder how much they make?'
'They might not even get paid. I don't think the Redskin cheerleaders get any money.'
'Really? Well I guess that makes sense. I guess there are a lot of girls who want to do it.'
It's at this point that the iced out guy in front of us turns around and says, 'Yeah they get paid.'
Oh. I smiled, 'Do you have a dancing friend?'
'Yeah,' he answered with a smirk before turning back to the game.
Oops. He probably heard our whole conversation.**
And this was just the beginning of the night. After the Wizards lost (they had been leading nearly the whole game, argh!) we decided to get in a little barhopping. On the way to Fado's (for you non-DCers it's an Irish bar) we stopped off at Clyde's (uh, another bar).
Why were we here? The crowd seemed a little older than us.
First I should backtrack...
Let me introduce you to Houston.
Houston is a little odd. Let's just say he made some weird remarks about Jesus and asked me if I'd ever consider using urine as windshield wiper fluid the first time we met -- we didn't get off on the right foot. There's more to this, but let's leave it at that.
Houston was at the game, but after 10 minutes he disappeared. Not surprising really. When he turned up a few minutes before the game ended, we also weren't shocked that he had made some new friends.
'Yeah, I've been drinking free beer with them the whole time in their stadium suite.'
Apparently Houston's new friends were at Clyde's. He wanted to introduce us.
Next thing I knew I was shaking hands with two wasted men old enough to be my father.
'So are we going to get crazy? Go somewhere wild?' asked one of the 'Dads' who sounded eerily like Kelsey Grammer. 'Let's go have some fun and shit.'
Way to go Houston. Guess who the oldies were trying to talk to? It was pretty sad, actually. I know you're shitfaced, but really?
Luckily when we arrived at Fado's we were able to distance ourselves from 'em and grabbed a table with **
** and another friend Nate.
You know those 'philosophical' talks you have with friends after you've knocked a few back? Yup. I guess I was due.
'You guys are so lucky that you don't have to worry like we do,' Bobby said, staring the fellas down. 'We have that biological clock that's ticking.'
'It's true,' Karen agreed. 'You all can have kids whenever you want.'
'Yeah, you could be in your forties and find a younger girl,' Bobby said.
'But we don't want to do that,' Jason said looking confused.
'That's fine,' I said, 'You just have more time, that's all.'
'Yeah, we're not going to date just for the sake of dating,' Bobby said. 'If it's not going anywhere, then why waste our time?'
'Well,' Nate said with a shrug. 'Guys can sense it if that's on a girl's mind a lot. That's a turn off.'
This conversation continued for another ten minutes or so. The conclusion? Men are able to have kids at a later age than women and we're jealous of the lack of pressure they have. Really? You don't say ;-).
Ah the beauty of buzzed conversations.
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